


Angels Don't Wear Dresses

by Lemonstu (Limestu)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-13 16:35:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/826430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Limestu/pseuds/Lemonstu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John decides to introduce his new matesprit to the concept of snow angels. Vriska calls bullshit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angels Don't Wear Dresses

**Author's Note:**

> My partner suggested that I write some VrisJohn, and this is what I wrote for them as some practice for NSFW scenes. Smut is hard, so I apologise in advance if I suck terribly. I hope to god somebody else gets the reference in the title.

“What the fuck is that supposed to be?”

“It’s an angel, silly! See, there are the sleeves, and that’s a dress-“

“John, stop. I’ve seen angels. They look nothing like that. I’ll show you, watch.”

Vriska trudged through the thick snow towards the tree that stood defiantly outside John’s front door, aiming to prove John wrong. She pushed her foot against its thick trunk and kicked, throwing herself upwards with a small grunt, aiming for one of the lower-hanging branches. Deftly catching hold of a suitable stick she dangled for a moment, before the thin wood snapped under her weight, sending her back down to the ground. She landed heavily on her hands and knees, the branch still held tightly in her hand, leaving an awkward impression in the soft snow. She stood and brushed her knees off, giving John a smirk. “Don’t you dare say a word.”

“I wasn’t planning on it!” John laughed, carefully making his way through the snow towards his friend. No, shit, girlfriend. No, shit, matesprit. Stupid alien words. “Why are you mutilating my tree?”

“Here, look,” Vriska said as she stepped forward to meet him, holding the branch by the thicker end. She ran the thin end through the snow, drawing a long, thin snake-like creature. She finished off the piece by tracing two wings halfway along the thing’s body, ending up with what looked remarkably like a winged sperm.

“That looks remarkably like a winged sperm.” John said, grinning.

“What’s a sperm?”

“This!” With a sudden movement John pushed Vriska to the side, sending her toppling into the cold snow. She hit it hard and left an impressive impression as she slowly began to sink downwards to meet the ground. He pointed at her and laughed loudly, covering his mouth with his gloved hands. “That’s a sperm!”

“I’m going to fucking kill you, John.”

“No, see, lie on your back! Spread your arms and legs out, then just kind of wave them around. Then you’ll draw an angel with your body! It’s called a snow angel!”

Vriska blinked up at John through her snow-powdered eyelashes. He really was overly enthusiastic about the stupidest things sometimes. She shrugged and started to move her arms and legs the way she had seen him do so earlier, before sticking her arm out above her to get John’s help in standing up. After pushing her over, the least he could do was help her up. He owed her that much. “Pull me up.”  
John reached down and took Vriska’s hand in his, straining to pull her up. Being dead didn’t do much for his muscles, something which Vriska was sure to let him know several times a day. After almost falling down himself he had her on her feet, and still holding hands they looked down at the impression she had left in the snow.

“…It’s pretty.” Vriska said, smiling. Her cheeks were burning cerulean, but she hoped that John would just think it was from the cold.

“I told you they were pretty! Your horns kind of make it look like a demon, though. I don’t think they had horned troll aliens in mind when they invented snow angels. Unless maybe they did? Technically you created our universe, so you must have had some part in all of this. Oh my gosh, unless that means you are secretly evil? Maybe your horns mean-“

“John, shut up and kiss me.”

In one fluid motion Vriska took hold of the front of John’s jacket, span him to face her and locked lips with him, slipping her tongue into his mouth. His eyes widened for a moment before closing, arms dangling awkwardly down by his side. He still hadn’t got this whole kissing thing down yet, and he wasn’t entirely sure of where it was okay to put his hands. With her spare hand Vriska reached down and grabbed John by the wrist, pulling his hand up to meet her breast. His heartbeat began to race as they kissed there in the snow like that for what felt like an eternity, her hand pressing his own against her chest, his thighs squeezed together to force himself to calm the fuck down.

Reluctantly pulling away from the kiss to save his jaw from falling off, John scratched at his cheek awkwardly. “Uh, it’s cold out here.”

“Yeah, kind of. What about it?” Vriska asked with a smirk. Fucking humans and their ridiculously thin skin. She could barely feel the cold at all, and she was wearing quite fewer layers than he was.

“Well, uh, it’s probably warmer inside. Inside my house.”

“Probably, yeah.”

“We should go inside.”

“Inside your house?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure.”

John grinned and squeezed Vriska’s hand, pulling her along beside him. He reached the front step and wiped his shoes off on the welcome mat, not caring that dream bubbles are wiped clean the moment they vanish, reappearing sometime later as if they had never been occupied. It made eternity feel a little less intimidating, and Vriska had long since stopped calling him out for this pointless behaviour. He was happier that way, and that was all that mattered. He pushed the door open and ushered her inside, closing it behind them. The warmth of the fireplace immediately washed over him, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. It was nice to be back inside.  
Vriska was already moving upstairs by the time John had turned around to smile at her, leaving him smiling uncomfortably at an empty pair of shoes lying on the ground. He kicked his own shoes off and scampered up the stairs to follow her, finding his bedroom door already open and - shit. Her top, lying on the floor in the doorway. He blinked at the black fabric and swallowed, tiptoeing to peek into his room. There he found her, lying in bed with the blanket pulled up to her neck, white eyes blinking innocently in his direction. “John, I think I may have misplaced my shirt.”

“Oh, you mean this?” John said, reaching down to pick up Vriska’s shirt, squeezing it in his hands. “No, this is mine. Sorry. You’ll have to go topless for now.”  
He threw the top into the corner of the room and pulled off his jacket, then his sweater. He lifted the edge of the blanket up and slid into bed beside her, laying face-to-face with the troll. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Vriska said with a smile, shuffling over to lie closer to John. She pressed up against him, her breasts against his chest, her legs wrapped around his. “Is this warmer than outside?”

“Uh huh,” John said sheepishly, trying to ignore the feeling of having a girl’s boobs pressed against him as best he could. He reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear before leaning forward to press a small kiss to her lips. He was still hesitant to take the lead with her, afraid that he’d do something wrong and piss her off. She got pissed off a lot.

Leaning back slightly, Vriska took John’s hand away from her hair and pulled it back down to her chest, wrapping his fingers around her breast for him once again. She made him squeeze her there gently, smirking at the blush spreading across his nose. “You’re pathetic, John.”

“You’re pathetic, John!” John retorted quickly, the feeling of her nipple hardening against his palm making it equally as hard for him to think. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Do trolls even wear bras? Maybe bras were an entirely human invention. Does that mean that bras are totally pointless? Pondering the trans-universal existence of bras did little to stop the bulge in his pants growing, much to his chagrin. Shit. “Um. You’re hot.”

Vriska chuckled. “Thanks. So are you.”

“Do you mind if I…?”

“If you…?”

“Um, this…” John whispered, moving his hand slightly to rest this thumb against her nipple. He slowly began to make small circles over its tip, pressing down ever so slightly as he rotated his finger. “Is this okay…?”

Vriska nodded, closing her eyes. She sighed and arched her back into John’s touch, her breath catching in her throat. “That feels pretty good,” she said quietly, mouth dropping open an inch.  
The two lapsed into a comfortable silence as John continue to play with her breast, watching her face with a fond smile. He couldn’t believe how cute she was when she had her eyes closed like that, her lips slightly parted and her hair messy - she wasn’t just cute, she was beautiful. Shimmying downwards John took hold of the bottom of her breast as support, taking her nipple into his mouth and gently flicking his tongue across its hardened surface. A short gasp from above him told him that this was a good move, so he pressed his tongue firmer against her, holding her nipple between his teeth.  
Muttering quiet nothings to herself, Vriska twisted her fingers into John’s hair, her toes curling into his sheets. As he bit down she gasped and threw her head back, arching her back to push her chest closer to him, to his mouth, to his teeth, to his tongue. After what felt like almost no time at all John’s head popped back into view, shiteating grin plastered across his face. “You like that?”

Vriska leaned forward and kissed the tip of John’s nose, nodding. “Yeah. You’re not too bad.”

John laughed sheepishly, blush growing deeper. He could feel his face burning so hot that he almost wished he was back outside in the snow again. “I’ve never done anything like this before, so I just did what came naturally I guess…?”

Vriska blinked in surprise. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re a virgin? Seriously?”

John nodded, slightly embarrassed. “Uh, yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. Because you’re hot? I don’t see how every girl on Earth wasn’t throwing themselves at you.”

“Because they weren’t aliens and therefore didn’t have incredibly fucked up views on what makes a human boy attractive?”

“Fuck you, John.” Vriska grinned and reached down, running her fingers down his stomach, her hand coming to rest on the front of his pants, cupping his bulge. He was surprisingly hard given how little they had done together, but for a virgin, maybe cupping a breast was all he needed. She watched with satisfaction as he gasped at her touch, absolutely sure that she could feel him twitch. Squeezing his bulge gently she leant forward to nuzzle John’s nose with a smirk. “Still, I think it’s time we did something about that, don’t you?”

John nodded quickly, swallowing. Holy fucking shit, the girl of his dreams was lying across from him, hand on his dick, telling him that they were about to sleep together. He was so nervous he was surprised he had managed to stay erect, but the tip of his penis poking out from under his boxers told him - wait. In a matter of seconds Vriska had managed to get his fly down and was gently pumping her hand up and down, gripping him tightly through his boxers. His eyes fluttered closed as he tilted his head backwards, letting out a shaky moan. He fumbled upwards to fix his skewed glasses, rolling over to lie on his back. Vriska followed and lay her head on his chest, watching his foreskin roll back and forth over his tip. “You like that?”  
John made a short guttural sound in response, gripping the sheets tightly with his fingers. His mind clouded over as Vriska continued, her free hand lightly playing with her breasts. As much as she hated to admit it, watching his reaction to being touched was turning her on something fierce and she needed to do something about it. She slipped her hand down between her legs and pressed her fingers between her thighs, starting to rub there when - “Oh, Vriska, fuck!”  
His back arching and his mouth hanging low, John moaned loudly as he came, leaving his stomach and her hand dripping down onto the bed beneath them. He lay with his back suspended in the air for a moment as the pleasure washed over him before collapsing back down onto the mattress, panting heavily. His fingers and toes relaxed as the orgasm passed, his vision blurry as he turns to smile at his matesprit.

“That was fucking amazing,” John said, grinning drowsily. He rolled over and pulled his hands up to his chin, snuggling up against Vriska.

“Hey, no, fuck you!” she said, pushing John onto his back again. “You selfish prick! You can’t just go to sleep! What about me?”

“…What about you?” John asked dumbly, trying to regather his thoughts. It turned out that post-orgasm John was somehow even stupider than regular John.

Vriska stood and undid her jeans, slipping them and her panties down to her ankles. She stepped out of the garments and sat on John’s stomach, fingers pressed firmly against his chest. The fact that he now had a naked woman sitting on him didn’t escape John’s notice, and no sooner had he finally gone soft than he was beginning to get hard again. She pushed herself forward, her slit inches from his face. He blinked up at her, mouth hanging open. “You want me to…?”

“Fuck yes!” she said, twisting her fingers into John’s hair. “Get to it, blue boy!”


End file.
